“Enter, in lieu, the penitential pound:
“Exchange the gauds of pomp for ashes, dust:—
“Leave each mollitious haunt of luxury,
“The golden-garnished silken-couched alcove,
“The many-columned terrace that so tempts
“Feminine soul put foot forth, nor stop ear
“To fluttering joy of lover’s serenade,
“Leave these for cellular seclusion; mask (1200)
“And dance no more, but fast and pray; avaunt—
“Be burned, thy wicked townsman’s sonnet-book!
“Welcome, mild hymnal by…some better scribe!
“For the warm arms, were wont enfold thy flesh,
“Let wire-shirt plough and whip-cord discipline!”
If such an exhortation proved, perchance,
Inapplicable, words bestowed in waste,
What harm, since law has store, can spend nor miss?
Goes at command into the holy house (1210)
And, also at command, comes out again:
For, could the effect of such obedience prove
Too certain, too immediate? Being healed,
Go blaze abroad the matter, blessed one!
Art thou sound forthwith? Speedily vacate
The step by pool-side, leave Bethesda free
To patients plentifully posted round,
Since the whole need not the physician! Brief,
She may betake her to her parents’ place.
Welcome her, father, with wide arms once more, (1220)
Motion her, mother, to thy breast again!
For why? The law relinquishes its charge,
Grants to your dwelling-place a prison’s style,
But gives you back Pompilia; golden days,
Redeunt Saturnia regna! Six weeks slip,
And she is domiciled in house and home
As though she thence had never budged at all.
And thither let the husband, joyous—ay,
But contrite also—quick betake himself,
Proud that his dove which lay among the pots (1230)
Hath mued those dingy feathers,—moulted now,
Shows silver bosom clothed with yellow gold.
Quick, he shall tempt her to the perch she fled,
Bid to domestic bliss the truant back!
And opportunity, the irrevocable,
Once flown will flout him! Is the furrow traced?
If field with corn ye fail preoccupy,
Darnel for wheat and thistle-beards for grain,
Infelix lolium, carduus horridus, (1240)
Will grow apace in combination prompt,
Defraud the husbandman of his desire.
Already—hist—what murmurs ’monish now
The laggard?—doubtful, nay, fantastic bruit
Of such an apparition, such return
Interdum, to anticipate the spouse,
Of Caponsacchi’s very self! ’Tis said
When nights are lone and company is rare,
His visitations brighten winter up.
If so they did—which nowise I believe— (1250)
How can I?—proof abounding that the priest,
Once fairly at his relegation place
Never once left it—still, admit he stole
A midnight march, would fain see friend again,
Find matter for instruction in the past,
Renew the old adventure in such chat
As cheers a fireside! He was lonely too,
He, too, must need his recreative hour.
Should it amaze the philosophic mind
If one, was wont the enpurpled cup to quaff, (1260)
Have feminine society at will,
Being debarred abruptly from all drink
Save at the spring which Adam used for wine,
Dread harm to just the health he hoped to guard,
And, meaning abstinence, gain malady?
Ask Tozzi, now physician to the Pope!
“Little by little break”—(I hear he bids
Master Arcangeli my antagonist,
Who loves good cheer—and may indulge too much—
So I explain the logic of the plea (1270)
Wherewith he opened our proceedings late)—
“Little by little break a habit, Don!
“Become necessity to feeble flesh!”
And thus, nocturnal taste of intercourse
(Which never happened,—but, suppose it did)
May have been used to dishabituate
By sip and sip this drainer to the dregs
O’ the draught of conversation,—heady stuff,
Brewage which broached, it took two days and nights
To properly discuss o’ the journey, Sirs! (1280)
Such is the second-nature, men call use,
That undelightful objects get to charm
Instead of chafe: the daily colocynth
Tickles the palate by repeated dose,
Old sores scratch kindly, the ass makes a push,
Although the mill-yoke-wound be smarting yet,
For mill-door bolted on a holiday—
And must we marvel if the impulse urge
To talk the old story over now and then,
The hopes and fears, the stoppage and the haste,— (1290)
Subjects of colloquy to surfeit once?
“Here did you bid me twine a rosy wreath!”
“And there you paid my lips a compliment!”
“There you admired the tower could be so tall!”
“And there you likened that of Lebanon
“To the nose o’ the beloved!”—Trifles—still,
“Forsan et hœc olim,”—such trifles serve
To make the minutes pass in winter-time,
For, finally, of all glad circumstance (1300)
Should make a prompt return imperative,
What i’ the world awaits thee, dost suppose?
O’ the sudden, as good gifts are wont befall,
What is the hap of the unconscious Count?
That which lights bonfire and sets cask a-tilt,
Dissolves the stubborn’st heart in jollity.
O admirable, there is born a babe,
A son, an heir, a Franceschini last
And best o’ the stock! Pompilia, thine the palm!
Repaying incredulity with faith, (1310)
Ungenerous thrift of each marital debt
With bounty in profuse expenditure,
Pompilia will not have the old year end
Without a present shall ring in the new—
Bestows upon her parsimonious lord
An infant for the apple of his eye,
Core
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